


Here, Whole, Okay

by thisisapaige



Series: Thisisapaige's Suptober20 Collection [28]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Castiel Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Comforting Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Dreams About Hell, Dean Winchester Has PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet, Grounding techniques, Hugs, M/M, Nightmares, One Shot, Season/Series 15, Suptober 2020 (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisapaige/pseuds/thisisapaige
Summary: (For Suptober20. Day 28 Prompt: Hellscape)⁂Dean had that dream a lot.In recent years, however, the dream occurred infrequently enough that Dean was always caught off guard when it happened.Early one morning in mid-September, Dean couldn't quite believe that he was awake in his own room, in his own home, in his own body. A part of him was still in the dream, still hanging over the infinite Hellscape, still believing he didn't deserve to be saved.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Thisisapaige's Suptober20 Collection [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950343
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	Here, Whole, Okay

The Hellscape was all around him. Hooks pierced his hands. Flames licked his feet. Lightning seared his eyes. Thunder rang in his ears.

Dean was back. He was wrong. He never got out. He never got out. He never got out.

Dean cried out Sam's name because he could do nothing else. Sam couldn't hear Dean. Sam was up there, up on the surface. Dean was alone. No one could hear him. No one.

Then there was the light. Every time, Dean was sure it wouldn't appear. Every time, Dean was wrong. Every time, Dean would tell it the same thing.

_No. No. Take someone else. Take someone who deserves it. I'm supposed to be here. I have to be here. Don't you know what I've done?_

Every time, the light would bathe Dean in radiance, bathe Dean in warm sunlight. The light would wrap around Dean, gentle but firm, and, together, they would ascend. 

And Dean would awaken, gasping, gasping, gasping for air, grabbing at the sheets, trying to move, move, move, but he couldn't. He couldn't. 

He couldn't.

It took a few seconds, minutes, hours, to realize he wasn't in that Hellscape, that he was in his bed, somewhere relatively safe, somewhere on Earth. It took him a few seconds, minutes, hours to convince himself that it was a dream. He wasn't there anymore. He wasn't there anymore. He wasn't there anymore.

Dean had that dream a lot.

In recent years, however, the dream occurred infrequently enough that Dean was always caught off guard when it happened. 

Early one morning in mid-September, Dean couldn't quite believe that he was awake in his own room, in his own home, in his own body. A part of him was still in the dream, still hanging over the infinite Hellscape, still believing he didn't deserve to be saved.

Staring up at the ceiling of his dark room, Dean focused on his body. He clenched and unclenched his unmarked hands. He bent his unbroken knees. He curled his intact toes. 

He was here. He was whole. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay.

He could move. Dean sat up and turned on the light. Okay, three things: nightstand beside the bed, couch against the wall, shotgun mounted above the desk. 

He was here. He was whole. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay.

The time on his phone told him it was too night for the early birds and too early for the night owls. He scrolled aimlessly through a few apps but his mind was someplace else, someplace underneath. 

He was here. He was whole. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay.

But his hands shook. 

He hit the call icon before he thought better of it. He put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring once, twice.

“Hello?”

Cas’s voice was the final piece needed to ground Dean. Dean took a deep breath. He was here. He was whole. He was okay. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said. “What are you up to these days?”

“Uh…” The sound of a passing truck hissed over the line. “Driving.”

“Oh yeah? See anything interesting?”

“Just trees, trees, and more trees. I might have seen a fox. I can’t be sure.”

“Why can’t you be sure?”

“It was behind the trees.”

Dean snorted at Cas’s deadpan delivery. “Yeah, you better watch out for that guy.”

“Foxes are very wily.” 

This time, Dean laughed. Yeah. He really did feel okay now.

“Dean?” Cas waited until Dean made a sound of acknowledgement. “Are you well?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because I have learned that this is not an hour humans chose to be awake.”

“Yeah, I guess not. I couldn’t sleep. Just, uh...” Dean licked his lips and played with the edge of the blanket with his free hand. Should he just go ahead and say it? “Just making sure you were there.”

“I’m here,” Cas said, soft and serious and soothing Dean’s soul. “I’m not far out from the bunker if you wanted me to stop by.”

Dean’s first reaction was to tell Cas not to worry, not to bother, that Dean was just fine. He didn’t go with his first reaction. Instead, Dean stood up and let the shock of the cold floor on his bare feet make him reconsider.

“Yeah,” Dean said, a little breathless with the effort of admitting it. “If, uh, if you can.”

Dean heard Cas’s indicator light click. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

Cas made it in one hour and six minutes. Not that Dean counted it or anything. Not that Dean made sure he was showered and nicely dressed or anything.

Because that would be silly.

The rest of the bunker inhabitants weren’t awake yet so, when Dean met Cas in the library, no one was around to see how quickly Dean moved, how tightly he wrapped his arms around Cas, or how easily Cas returned the embrace. Cas held Dean, gentle and firm, and Dean ascended from the underneath and returned to the surface.

He was here. He was whole. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay.

They stayed like that for a long while. Cas didn’t let go until Dean did first.

“Hey, uh,” Dean started, his cheeks red, “you wanna watch a movie?”

“Of course,” Cas said.

And that was that.

They settled into their chairs in the Dean Cave. Since Jack left the _Star Wars_ disc in the player, that was what they watched.

Well, Cas watched it. Maybe. By the time the opening scroll finished, Dean was asleep. Because, with Cas beside him, Dean bathed in his radiance, his warm sunlight. Because, with Cas beside him, Dean was here, Dean was whole, Dean was okay.

He didn’t dream.


End file.
